Page 81 of The Lies I Told
“A woman after my own heart.” He set a sugar container in front of me and a half-full milk carton.
I dressed my coffee, sipped, savored the jolt and flavor.
“You were out driving?” As he stared at me over the rim of his cup, I imagined this was how he looked at a defendant on the witness stand. He allowed the silence to wheedle my story loose.
“I was in a car accident in January. I cracked up the car and my head. I’ve lost about a week or so of time before the accident, and I thought seeing the site would help me remember.”
“Did you remember anything?”
“Bits and pieces, but I can’t figure them out. It’s as if someone dropped a thousand tiny puzzle pieces on a table and I’ve been given three and told to guess the picture on the box.”
“Missing time can’t be easy.”
“It’s only ten days, but I know it was important.”
“I keep meticulous records in my calendar. I can tell you what I did on this date ten years ago. I couldn’t imagine not knowing.”
“I’ve never been good at keeping track, beyond work appointments. I had an art show on the Friday before, a wedding on Saturday night, a new-bride meeting on Tuesday—and several digital files show I’d done a good bit of editing that week. Those are my only concrete markers.”
“When was the accident?”
“The following Friday.”
“What about your phone? GPS history? Texts. Emails.”
“My phone was missing after the accident.” I stared into the creamy depths of my coffee. “My sister insists I’m making something out of nothing. But it’s important, and I can’t tell you why.”
“I saw your sister here. Brit Stockton, right?”
“Yeah. How did you know?”
“I know a lot of the attorneys in the city. She’s tough.”
I couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or a complaint. “After our mother died, she was the primary caregiver for my sister and me. She had to grow up fast.”
He sipped his coffee. “What caused the accident?”
“The report said I was intoxicated. But I don’t drink or use drugs.”
“You took two sips of the beer I gave you.” He did have an eye for detail.
“Big mistake,” I said. “I did it without thinking and should always be thinking.”
“Maybe on the day of the accident, you weren’t thinking, either. Maybe someone offered you something, and you took it before you realized. It just got ahead of you as you were rushing to get home.”
“It’s a good theory.”
“But ...”
“I don’t think I screwed up.”
He frowned. “Could you have been drugged? It happens too often.”
“I don’t remember.”
“Did the hospital test your blood?”
“They were too busy getting me into surgery. Later they did test, but the tests were inconclusive. But even if they found a substance, I didn’t willingly take it.”
